


One-Sided

by bulletincookie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Idiots in Love, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Scenting, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Top Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletincookie/pseuds/bulletincookie
Summary: Just because nobody else saw how much Geralt was in love with him didn't mean he wasn't. Jaskier knew the truth was very far from that, in fact.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 56
Kudos: 889





	One-Sided

**Author's Note:**

> I said I was just going to write some nice hot smut but then I accidentally spilled so many feelings into it

One-sided.

That's what the barmaid had said with a pitying look.

They had managed to get lucky with a small village that had a surprisingly comfortable inn to stop in just before the clouds broke with sheets of rain. Even more luckily, there were quite a few people gathered in there. A nearly captive audience for a bard, unless they were terrible enough. Which Jaskier most certainly was not.

He wasted no time in marching up to the bar to request he lighten up such a drab evening with some music, seeing as the place really needed it. And soon enough, he was gallivanting around the room, dancing from table to table while he sang of his witcher's battles and noble acts, with an occasional love song interspersed if he got to a table with a young couple. These were about the witcher as well, only a tad more subtle to make them more appealing to an audience. He sang of long, light hair turning silver in the moonlight, eyes that shone with love brighter than gold. Sometimes the song was about a battle-hardened lover, the scars he earned for protecting his love.

Said battle-hardened lover was seated on the opposite side of the room, and Jaskier didn't even need to look to know his gaze was on him the entire time. He could feel it well enough, burning into his back. He just kept playing and singing, tossing occasional winks to patrons that looked like they might give a bit of extra coin if he was flirtatious enough.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, even if Jaskier was taking great delight in the money given to him and people who knew his songs singing along. His throat was getting dry, and he felt that if Geralt continued to stare at him, he would soon have two holes burnt right through his chest. So with a final flourish and bow, he slung his lute back over his shoulder and headed to the bar to get two ales.

The barmaid tossed him a smile and a wink as she filled the two mugs for him. "You with someone?" she asked.

"I am," Jaskier replied cheerfully. "My friend over there, in the corner." He finally met Geralt's gaze and gave him an enthusiastic wave. The barmaid turned to look just as Geralt pointedly turned his head away to ignore Jaskier's waving.

When Jaskier looked back to the barmaid, she had a pitying smile on her face as she set the two mugs on the counter. "Poor lad," she had said, almost knowing at that point that he was also the subject of Jaskier's love songs. It wasn't like Jaskier tried to be subtle.

"Pardon?"

"Seems the definition of one-sided to me. Guess it's true witchers don't feel, eh boy?"

A dark look crossed Jaskier's face, but he said nothing as he took the mugs and promptly strode off to the corner. He wasn't in the mood to argue, he just needed a drink and a nice bath. Preferably with Geralt. His smile had faded a bit, but brightened back up immediately upon sitting down and handing the mug to Geralt.

"Quite a generous crowd tonight," Jaskier said, tapping his mug against Geralt's before taking a long drink. Geralt just held onto his mug, not drinking yet, instead glowering at something past Jaskier. This wasn't unusual, and Jaskier focused on his drink. He could fill the silence himself, throw out potential conversation starters until he found one that got some sort of reaction.

"I got enough from the performance, we could stay here for an extra day if you'd like." Silence. Jaskier tapped his fingers against the mug, the barmaid's words stung a bit more than they should have. "Or you could have your own room and bed--"

"No," Geralt interrupted. Jaskier's smile brightened more.

"Well thank goodness, I would hate to have to face that woman again after so cruelly shattering her heart," he sighed wistfully and swayed back in his chair, as if swooning. "Alas, my heart is already held in a tight silver and steel grip."

Geralt only grunted in response and took a drink of his ale, but not fast enough to hide the small upwards curve of his lips from Jaskier. It was enough to keep him going on.

"In fact, I don't think I could free it, not even if I wanted to." Jaskier draped the back of his hand across his forehead. "My heart is trapped." He spared a glance back at Geralt, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned back in. "Or perhaps it is not trapped, but in fact protected. After all, there is no safer place for it, is there?"

"I can think of many safer places."

Jaskier pouted and sat back up, taking another drink. "Well. _I_ would not rather have it anywhere else."

Geralt gave a small hum in response and went back to focusing on his own drink. Jaskier couldn't help it, the barmaid's words echoed back in his head. Was it truly one-sided? He spared a glance back at Geralt, only to catch him averting his eyes away from Jaskier. Caught in the act of staring at him.

A smile lit up Jaskier's face. No, of course it wasn't. If anything, Jaskier wasn't showering his Witcher in _enough_ love. To fix this, he reached across and gave Geralt's free hand a small pat. The Witcher wasn't particularly fond of affectionate displays in public, so that was as much as he dared where people could see. But he didn't miss the way Geralt's face seemed to soften ever so slightly at it.

That was proof enough for Jaskier, and he rested his chin on his palm as he stared unashamedly at Geralt. Even a small pat screamed how much Geralt cared for him. Geralt, who heavily disliked physical contact, and would grit his teeth if someone so much as brushed up against him. Not that it happened very often, most people steered clear of him. But yet here Jaskier was, looking like a lovestruck fool straight at him and occasionally nudging his leg under the table, and all Geralt did was soften at it.

It was incredibly difficult for Geralt to lose the face he put on for everyone else. The scary witcher, one who killed monsters and was only in it for the coin. Even behind doors it took a bit of coaxing from Jaskier, and in some extreme cases a hot bath and a gentle massage, before he relaxed. But even without that, Jaskier saw the way his golden eyes softened when looking at him, heard how his name was spoken gentler than anything else even in front of a court. That, to him, rang through him louder than a bell. If Geralt ever tried anything more in public, Jaskier was sure he would die on the spot.

Which he promptly almost did, when his absent-minded nudging under the table earned him a small nudge back. Jaskier felt his heart in his throat as his face burned. How many ballads could he write about such a small gesture?

"Jaskier."

Oh, and there it was, a second strike to surely finish him off. At least he died a blissfully happy man. It was quite possibly the best way to die by a witcher. A close second being to their impressive stamina in bed.

" _Jaskier_."

"Hmm?" He was too lovestruck to manage words at that moment.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"You.." Geralt frowned deeper and gripped his mug, which Jaskier would have worried about cracking with how white his fingers were around it if he weren't so distracted by the beautiful witcher across from him.

"I?"

"Stop smelling like that."

That snapped Jaskier out of his daze. He subtly checked himself and pouted to see Geralt was lying. He still smelled of the fine perfume he had sprayed on before going into the tavern. "I smell fine."

"No, you don't." Geralt grunted and loosened his grip on the mug. "Even someone not a witcher can tell."

That got Jaskier's interest. So it was about Geralt's witcher senses detecting something on him. And by how his thoughts were a moment ago, he could guess, but he wanted to needle it out of Geralt anyways. It was much more fun that way. "Oh? And how _do_ I smell?"

"...You know what I mean."

"Geralt, I can't read minds."

"You still know."

He stretched closer, nearly laying his chest on the table. "So I smell like deep and utter hatred and fear?" He knew it was the farthest stretch from the truth. He could never hate or fear his beloved witcher.

Geralt heaved a deep sigh and lowered his voice. "You smell like you are going to burst if you don't stop staring at me like a fool."

Jaskier gave a cheeky grin and rested his chin on both of his hands. "Well I am."

Geralt averted his eyes again. "Stop."

"Make me."

Jaskier blinked and suddenly Geralt was up out of his chair and heading for the stairs leading up to the rooms. There was a slight glance back towards him, so quick nobody else would have seen it, and Jaskier felt his heart stop. He downed the rest of his ale and grabbed his lute to chase after him. He knew it was an invitation to follow. Geralt wasn't the only one with uncanny senses, with how well Jaskier had gotten at reading him over the years.

Even if there might have been a slight doubt in the back of his mind (there wasn't) that Geralt wanted to be left alone (he didn't), the door to their room being left a small crack open for him was enough of a message.

Jaskier moved to close the door behind him, only to have it forcefully closed as Geralt's rough hands were on his shoulders, firm but still so soft as he backed Jaskier into the door to close it. Even the glare the bard was getting wasn't close to the harsh glowering he knew Geralt was capable of.

"You are a menace," Geralt growled, pressing close to him. Jaskier couldn't stop his heart from soaring at this though, as he remembered his earlier thoughts about how Geralt didn't like physical contact _except when he was involved._ His thoughts were quickly shut up by a surprisingly sweet kiss pressed on his lips, and he wrapped his free arm that wasn't holding his lute around Geralt's neck.

"I'm your menace," he whispered back with a small smile. Geralt only grunted and buried his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck as the bard tangled his thin fingers in his witcher's long hair.

"You have no idea," Geralt muttered against his skin. Jaskier tilted his head to give him room to cover his neck in bites, only to get feather light kisses peppering up and down his neck instead. The feeling made him laugh a little, the lightness tickled.

"What-- What are you doing?" he asked in between small giggles.

"I could have gone outside into the rain and still smelled how damn in love you were," Geralt said, and damn if that didn't make Jaskier's heart skip in the best of ways.

"Oh-ho? Was the famous Geralt of Rivia, stone-faced slayer of monsters, _embarrassed_?" Jaskier teased. He could feel the slight smile Geralt had against his skin.

"No." Geralt gave a small nip to his neck in retaliation, and Jaskier couldn't hide the small gasp that earned. "I wanted to lay you on the table and kiss you until you passed out."

Jaskier felt like he was going to faint now from how dizzy the words made him feel. "Yet you have only kissed me once." He gave another jolt as Geralt nipped over his pulse. "I won't-- won't pass out from you making out with my neck," he added, his voice much more breathless.

"You sound like you will," Geralt said, but let himself be tugged up by Jaskier's hand on the back of his neck to meet his lips again. He gave a small, satisfied rumble that definitely did _not_ make Jaskier's knees go weak. He only held onto Geralt tighter with his free hand just in case. He propped his lute up against the wall so he could wind his arms around Geralt's neck and pull him closer. His lips parted and he angled his head for another, deeper kiss, only faintly registering the whine in his throat that came from Geralt slipping his tongue inside his mouth. It felt like the air was pulled from his lungs with each time their lips met, only allowing for Jaskier to get small gasps in between.

Jaskier barely scraped enough will to pull away, that will nearly shattering when Geralt chased after him for a brief moment. "Bed?" he whispered.

Geralt hooked his arms around Jaskier's thighs and hefted him up as if he was a feather, making Jaskier give a small squeak and wrap his legs around Geralt's waist. He had half a mind to take it back and say to hell with the bed, but before he could open his mouth to speak he already was being tossed unceremoniously onto the bed, a laugh escaping him as he gave a small bounce.

"What was that for, you brute?" he teased, moving to sit up. Geralt sat down on the edge of the bed, that slight, genuine smile for him and only him more than making up for the jarring feeling of being dropped.

"It got you to laugh," Geralt pointed out, and Jaskier couldn't help but wheeze a bit at hearing that. Damn this witcher and his bluntness, that truly was going to be the death of him someday.

As if reading his mind-- who was he kidding he probably radiated it, damn freaky witcher senses-- Geralt leaned in for another gentle kiss, just a small press of their lips together for a brief moment. It shouldn't have been much, yet it made Jaskier's heart pick back up to the quick pace that it had just settled down from.

"Come here already," Jaskier muttered, curling his hands into the front of Geralt's shirt and pulling. Geralt followed and ended up rolling onto his back in the middle of the bed with the bard laying on top of him, looking positively pleased with himself.

"Hello," Geralt rumbled, a hand coming up to rest on Jaskier's back.

Jaskier spared him a warm smile in return. "Hi," he murmured, almost too softly. He traced a finger over Geralt's chest, over scars he knew hid beneath the shirt. Geralt could easily flip him over and pin him to the bed. He could have stayed in place at the edge of the bed, but he let Jaskier pull him onto the bed and lay on top of him, touching him even more and he looked happier for it. Jaskier could feel how relaxed Geralt was under him. How could he not be smitten with this man every waking moment?

He couldn't help himself, he leaned in and gave him another kiss. He moved from Geralt's lips to his jaw, and down his neck. Geralt gave a small hum of approval and tilted his head back. Jaskier spared a glance up, and saw that his witcher's eyes were closed. He cupped Geralt's jaw in his hands and smiled down at him until Geralt opened his eyes, the usually cat-like slits now wide and nearly circular.

"Hi," Jaskier teased, earning him another small smile.

"Hello," Geralt whispered back, his fingers tracing up and down Jaskier's spine.

"So why did you make me follow you up here?"

"I didn't make you do anything, little lark."

"You definitely made--" Jaskier found his throat choked up as his brain caught up and registered the pet name.

"Cat got your tongue?" Geralt asked, bringing his free hand to trace his thumb over Jaskier's bottom lip.

Jaskier pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb. "More like a wolf, I think."

"Careful, wolves are known to be cunning and ruthless."

"Not this one. This one loves me too much."

In a flash, Jaskier found himself now laying on the bed, with Geralt hovering over him. The witcher leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"That I do," Geralt whispered to him.

Jaskier felt his heart burst at the quiet confirmation that yes, Geralt truly does love him too much, and he reached up to tuck a stray wisp of hair behind Geralt's ear.

"So should we put this wonderful bed to good use?" he asked. At Geralt raising a questioning brow with a small smirk on his face, Jaskier quickly added, "Sex, I mean. I'm talking about having sex. Us having sex. With each other, preferably."

Geralt gave a quiet chuckle as Jaskier fumbled over his words for once, and the noise made Jaskier instantly quiet again. "I know. Do you want to?"

"Of course I do, have for the past twenty minutes you--" Jaskier was cut off with Geralt's mouth on his, and he instantly melted into the kiss that had no right to feel so gentle and sweet when Geralt's tongue was in his mouth. The way Geralt's fingers combed through his hair, brushing the curls back away from his forehead. Despite how much Jaskier loved exchanging kisses, he pressed gently against Geralt's chest with a quiet "wait". Geralt instantly pulled away, as if the touch burned him.

"You..do want this as well, yes?" Jaskier asked. "I know I do, and I know you witchers have a reputation for an insatiable sex drive _and gods have I seen that first hand_ but if you don't--" His rambling was silenced, once again, by Geralt's lips on his, only for a brief moment.

"Jaskier," Geralt whispered, his breath ghosting across Jaskier's lips. "I want nothing more right now."

Jaskier felt a rush of heat go through him at that. "Oh. Oh yeah okay. Right." And he leaned up to close the space between them once more, for a much slower kiss that seemed to never end. Jaskier fumbled with the buttons on his doublet, only for his hands to be stilled with one of Geralt's own holding them.

"Let me," the witcher murmured against his lips, and how could Jaskier refuse such a request? He instead wrapped his arms back around Geralt's neck and pressed kiss after kiss to his mouth, only faintly aware of the buttons slowly coming undone from Geralt's fingers. Geralt moved to press kisses down along Jaskier's neck and over the thin embroidered shirt underneath, moving lower with every button undone.

"Geralt, that's not fair," Jaskier whined, though his legs spread to let Geralt kneel between them once the last button and tie was undone. Except Geralt instead sat up and pushed Jaskier's doublet and embroidered shirt off, his calloused fingers ever so gently sliding up along Jaskier's chest as he pushed the fabric off. Jaskier lifted himself up just enough to slip the clothing off and over his head for Geralt to toss them to the side. Jaskier sank back into the bed to work with nimble fingers the ties keeping Geralt's shirt open, the shirt soon following to lay on the floor.

A small part of him wanted to get naked right now, but the other part wanted to kiss Geralt more until he was breathless again, and so he pulled Geralt down to nip at his bottom lip. Geralt gave a small growl in response and pressed Jaskier's body down into the bed with his own as he pressed kiss after kiss to his mouth. Jaskier could only imagine how swollen his lips would be by the end of the night.

Geralt pulled away just enough to nudge at Jaskier's jaw with his nose, a soft kiss following before he was moving lower to kiss at the crook of his neck. Jaskier gave a content hum. It was starting slower than usual, but he certainly wasn't complaining. In fact, he almost preferred Geralt like this; soft kisses and touches, the stubble on his chin both tickling and scratching Jaskier's skin. Though that made Jaskier pause as he realized that Geralt had moved back up and was rubbing his cheek right over Jaskier's pulse.

"You're going to give me a burn," he teased. "What are you doing? Marking me?"

"Hmm," came the rumbled response, and oh, that sent a shudder through Jaskier.

"Damn witchers," Jaskier breathed, his eyes closing as he tilted his head back for his witcher. This wasn't the first time Geralt had done something like this, but for some reason the intimate air between them made it a thousand times more touching. Every kiss pressed on his skin made the fire curling in the pit of his stomach burn just a bit brighter, but it came on slowly, lazily almost. They had the entire night after all, they were in no rush.

"Jaskier," Geralt murmured against his collarbone, and Jaskier couldn't help the way his heart raced at hearing his name spoken so softly, reverently almost.

He stroked his fingers over Geralt's hair. "Here," he whispered, breathlessly, as Geralt continued his path down.

He arched up ever so slightly at the continued kisses and occasional nips that were peppered along his chest. Geralt traced a thumb along the dip of Jaskier's hipbone sticking out of his trousers. The soft touches and kisses were divine, Jaskier could die right then and there and he would die a happy man.

"Jaskier look at me."

He hadn't even realized he closed his eyes. He opened them again and propped himself up just enough to see Geralt resting his head on his thigh, a gentle smile tugging at his lips and something in his golden eyes that Jaskier was sure he would spend the rest of this lifetime and the next figuring out how to describe.

He couldn't help but reach a trembling hand down to trace a thumb along Geralt's cheekbone. "Beautiful," was all he could manage to choke out. Geralt turned his head to press a kiss to Jaskier's palm before moving back to grab Jaskier's hand and intertwine their fingers. He slid up to bump their noses together, earning him another soft laugh from Jaskier.

"What's gotten into you?" Jaskier asked. "You don't usually take this long to get naked."

"It's your fault," Geralt muttered. "If you didn't flaunt your love so much that the next town over knows."

Jaskier gave his hand a small squeeze. "You're turning into a big softie."

"I could rip your clothes off and settle for a quick fuck," Geralt threatened lightly, though Jaskier knew there was no bite behind the words. He could, yes, but he knew Geralt wouldn't. Not this time, at least.

"But you love me too much," Jaskier cooed, running his thumb back and forth over the back of Geralt's hand. A small quirk of Geralt's mouth and a press of lips against his cheek told him everything he needed to hear.

He wiggled his hips a bit under him. "But really Geralt can we please get on with it? I'd like to have sex with you sometime before I die."

"You already have."

"Okay yes that's true but hurry up already."

Geralt was quiet for a moment, his thumb stroking over Jaskier's cheek. "How do you want this?"

"Anything, really Geralt you should know I--" he was cut off by another kiss.

"Stay here," Geralt murmured against his lips before standing up to go to their bags across the room. Jaskier whined and silently lamented they didn't keep their bags right next to the bed, though it gave him time to slip off his trousers, socks, and boots, and toss them aside.

He sat up just in time to watch as Geralt stripped out of his own clothes. He had seen the witcher naked countless times already, both intimately and casually, but he never got tired of it.

Geralt was built, that much was obvious even through the clothes. But naked he was a work of art, rugged and handsome with the scars littering his skin. It left Jaskier breathless every time. He bit his lower lip, wanting nothing more than to map out every scar with his lips. He had already done so many times before, but the quiet gasps he drew from Geralt as his witcher relaxed from the affection never got old.

Jaskier blinked as he realized Geralt was now almost on top of him once more, and he smiled.

"Actually…I want you. Just like this," he breathed, winding an arm around Geralt's waist to pull him into his lap. He gave a shuddering gasp as their cocks brushed together and buried his face in the crook of Geralt's neck to press a kiss to his skin. "Is that alright?"

"Only if you get on with it," Geralt muttered, his voice strained.

Jaskier's fingers slid over Geralt's hand, taking the vial from him and popping it open to coat his own fingers in the oil. Geralt lifted himself up slightly and shifted to straddle Jaskier's lap, and Jaskier reached behind him to trace his slick fingers around Geralt's hole. Geralt shuddered and pressed back into the touch, a soft, pleased sigh escaping him when Jaskier slipped one finger in.

"I'm not glass," he muttered.

Jaskier pressed a kiss to his collarbone. "I know. But now you've got me feeling romantic," he murmured. "I want to take my time with you." He carefully pressed in a second finger, delighting in the hum he pulled from Geralt as he thrust them into him. As usual, he filled the silence with sweet nothings.

"You have ruined me Geralt," he purred as he worked his fingers in and out of him. "I can never love anyone else. Gods I love you so much. Every other lover I've had feels fake to what we have."

"Don't talk about others while you're--" Geralt cut himself off with a strangled groan as Jaskier pointedly curled his fingers to press against that spot to make him see stars.

"What was that?" Jaskier hummed as he slid a third finger in, working a bit faster to stretch him out as his own arousal became almost unbearable.

"Shut up and _fuck me_." Geralt grit his teeth, rolling his hips down into Jaskier's fingers.

"Only if you say please." To make his point, Jaskier thrust his fingers in slower, pulling a growl from the witcher.

" _Jaskier_."

"Manners, Geralt."

Geralt moaned and tried to thrust his hips back faster against Jaskier's slick fingers, only to have Jaskier's free arm wrap around his waist to hold him in place. He growled in frustration.

"Come on, Geralt," Jaskier whispered in his ear, his teeth lightly nipping the corner of his jaw.

"Jaskier, _please_ ," Geralt ground out.

Jaskier hummed and curled his fingers just right in him again, making the witcher jerk and give a strangled cry. He knew that Geralt could have easily pushed him down and ridden him until dawn, but the fact that he didn't, that he trusted Jaskier to take control, warmed his heart.

"I love you," he murmured, pulling his fingers out. He poured a bit more oil on them and slipped them back in to make sure he was prepared enough. His own arousal was throbbing insistently, and as Geralt panted out another " _please_ ", he couldn't hold back anymore. He bit his lip to hold back a moan as he slipped his fingers out and spread the oil over his own cock while Geralt lifted himself up. He guided Geralt's hips down onto his cock, his head tilting back and his eyes fluttering at the pleasant warmth that flooded him.

"Oh, Geralt," Jaskier breathed, his hands squeezing Geralt's hips. Geralt gave a low moan in agreement once he was fully seated on Jaskier, and he gave a small roll to adjust.

"Gorgeous." Jaskier leaned up to press a kiss to Geralt's lips. The kiss muffled his moan as Geralt gave another small roll of his hips before starting a steady, gentle pace.

"You feel so good," Jaskier panted, thrusting up to meet Geralt's hips. He felt Geralt dig his nails into his shoulders just enough to feel the sting, and he couldn't stop his mouth from running.

"Like that, that's it. You're so good to me, my love," he whispered in between soft moans. He shuddered when Geralt pulled him close to claim his lips in another kiss.

"Mine," he growled against Jaskier's mouth, and Jaskier could have fainted on the spot there. He let go of Geralt's hips with one hand to wrap his fingers around his cock, stroking him as best he could with Geralt's lips and tongue still hungrily claiming his mouth. He angled his hips enough to make Geralt curse and throw his head back as he tightened around Jaskier.

Jaskier bit his lip, trying very hard not to come right then and there. He leaned forward and mouthed at Geralt's shoulder, running his tongue over a spot he knew was sensitive before biting down. The cry Geralt gave was music to his ears. He wished he could spend all night pulling music from Geralt like this. But then Geralt grinded his hips down to take Jaskier fully, and moaned out his bard's name in such a way that it only took Jaskier a couple more bucks up into his lover before he came with a shuddering gasp.

Geralt kept moving, working him through his orgasm, and he was only half aware of the things spilling from his mouth. "Oh I love you, I love you, I'm yours, _always_ yours Geralt," he panted, fisting Geralt's cock. "Come for me, please."

That tipped Geralt off the edge, and Jaskier sat back and watched Geralt's body coil and tense as he spilled over their stomachs, until the witcher was spent and he slumped forward against Jaskier.

"Mm that was so good, thank you," Jaskier murmured, holding Geralt close and petting his hair as Geralt rested his head on Jaskier's shoulder. "Come on, get off of me so I can clean up you big oaf."

"I can do it," Geralt mumbled back, though he made no move to get up. Jaskier smiled and kissed his cheek before unceremoniously dumping him to the side on the bed. He groaned and folded up his legs in relief, then got up to walk over to the washbasin and pitcher of water on unsteady feet. He filled the basin up and dipped a cloth in it, wiping himself off and dipping the cloth in again before carrying it over to Geralt.

"Spread your legs for me darling," he purred, and Geralt managed a soft chuckle before he opened his legs so Jaskier could gently clean him off. Jaskier pressed a kiss to Geralt's temple and murmured praises to him when he felt Geralt shudder, and cleaned up his stomach as fast as he could.

"There. All done love," he murmured. He cleaned up the slight mess they made on the sheets and then tossed the rag aside. He tugged the blankets out from under Geralt to drape them over him, and crawled into bed beside him. He snuggled up to Geralt, who easily turned on his side to drape an arm over Jaskier and pull him to his chest.

"I love you," Jaskier whispered, nuzzling his collarbone.

"I know," Geralt said, and when Jaskier leaned back to narrow his eyes at him, a smile tugged at the witcher's lips. "I love you too," he added, pressing a kiss to Jaskier's forehead.

Jaskier felt a warmth burst in his chest and he bumped their noses together. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment/kudos if you like it, I thrive off of validation


End file.
